Blundering Aimlessly Towards Disaster
by Eriyum
Summary: Messing with time is a messy business. In his desperation to see his father, Harry makes a grave mistake that alters the state of the world. While Harry doesn't know how he will come to terms with his new life as Henry Stoik, or how he will set the world to rights, one thing is certain; Tom Riddle is still an evil shit. Slash, slowburn, TomxHarry
1. Chapter 1

Blundering Aimlessly Towards Disaster

I own nothing and no one, please enjoy!

Summary: Messing with time is messy business, and in his desperation to see his father, Harry makes a grave mistake that alters time forever. Now his life has gone topsy-turvy; the timeline of his old world has been reflected and refracted, and everything Harry thought he knew about the past has changed. While Harry does not know how he will navigate his new life as Henry Stoik and find a way to set the timeline to rights, one thing is for certain; Tom Riddle is still an evil shit.

 **-( About Harry's Refraction: Harry is the most severely refracted character as he is the one who broke time. Henry and Harry have similar name meanings, while Potter and Stoik are nearly polar opposites. They do have the same British origins though.)-**

Harry couldn't recall a time when he had felt worse, not even the morning after being bitten by the Basilisk. He head hurt, his eyes felt swollen, and ever muscle in his body was so sore he thought he might look like one big bruise. Harry groaned and tried to open his eyes to see where he was to no avail. He couldn't recall what had put him in this state, the last he remembered was saving buckbeak… but no, that wasn't right. Something else had happened after that, he just couldn't recall what. Suddenly a feeling of dread washed over him as Harry finally remembered; Sirius was in trouble. With a new sense of urgency Harry tried to rouse his body and open his eyes. He tried to call out for Sirius, but he found his voice came on strangled grunts, like his tongue was too frozen and fat to use. He struggled to sit up with little success, his limbs felt limp as noodles as his muscles screamed in protest. Whatever had happened to him had really done a number on him. Harry's mind flashed to the dementors and a shiver of fear traveled down his spine. Had they done this to him? Tried to suck out his soul and damaged him beyond repair? Would he be stuck like this forever? Was Sirius even alive? As panic settled in Harry lost all sense of himself and struggled harder. It was like moving through heavy molasses and his eyes weighed a thousand pounds, but he did manage to squint his eyes open a couple of times, but what he saw he could not comprehend in his panicked state and so was no use to him at all.

A clatter arose from behind him, fast footsteps pounding on stone, but Harry was too far gone to acknowledge it. Fear and anxiety had a hold on him now and the feeling of being surrounded by molasses and pain didn't make it any easier to concentrate.

"Oh, sweet Merlin! It cannot be! Healer Braxton! Come quickly, Healer Braxton! It's Henry, he is awake!" a woman's voice called out as she left just as swiftly as she had arrived. Harry lost the battle against his body and his mind returned to unconsciousness. The next time few times he woke were not much better as he drifted in and out of consciousness, though sometimes he was aware of unfamiliar voices.

"Movement, again. I scarcely believe it. Even his vitals are…"

"… is my son! I demand to see him…"

"… you hear my voi…."

"… should have died. There was no indication of…"

Then, as clear as a bell and as startling as an arctic breeze on a warm day,

"Can you hear me, Mr. Stoik?", and Harry woke up, and he remembered.

His eyes were open, but his stare was vacant as he recalled those final moments before he blacked out. He had been such a desperate fool, wanting nothing more than to meet his father. So he had waited in the woods as the dementors attacked his past self and his godfather. He had waited for his father to appear, he waited for him to save them, he had waited for a chance to meet him… he had waited too long. Harry blinked as his eyes began to burn with tears and his mind was forced back to the present. An unfamiliar man was leaning over him, smiling as he waved his wand up and down the length of his body.

"Ah, there's a good lad. Welcome back, Henry. My name is Healer Braxton, and you are in St. Mungo's." he said.

All Harry could manage was, "Who?"

 **-( About The Break: Harry wanted to see his father save himself and Sirius so badly that he waited too long and watched his past self lose his soul, effectively breaking the timeline. This is the result.)-**

Hope you enjoyed that short first chapter. I am changing many things about this story from the original version, I think this has better organization and a stronger plot line.


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing and no one! Hope you enjoy!

 **-(About Healer Braxton: Specializes in Core Damage and has experience with Mindhealing. Enjoys muggle candy.)-**

"Who?" Harry asked. His voice was raspy and breathy, a loud whisper if anything, but the Healer understood his word, if not his meaning.

"Healer Braxton, I have been looking after you for quite some time now. You were very sick, Henry." He said. Harry felt his heart start to race.

"Harry." He croaked out, his voice breaking with the exertion. Healer Braxton frowned.

"Careful now, don't strain your voice. It has gone without use for a long period of time, you might cause damage. Don't worry, everything will be fine, we will just have to ease you into your recovery. Alright? Now, I'm afraid I don't know who Harry is, but we had sent word to your mother that you are awake, she will be here soon. I'm sure she can answer your questions." Said Healer Braxton. He lowered his wand and put it away, seemingly pleased with whatever the spell had told him. Harry clenched his hands weakly as tears of frustration sprang to his eyes. Couldn't this guy at least recognize him by his scar? Then Harry realized what the man had said.

"Mother?" he whispered. Some woman had claimed to be his mother and the hospital had believed her. The healer smiled at him, unable to discern the alarm in his feeble voice.

"Yes, she will be here soon. Rest up until then, I will return shortly, I promise." He said and then he swept out of the room. Harry tried to tell him to wait, but it was no use, he was gone too quickly. Harry tried again to get up, and as he tried to use his arms to leverage himself he noticed how thin his wrists were. In fact, his whole arm was thin and boney, as if all of his muscles had atrophied back to the pitiful state they were in as a malnourished child. For one horrifying moment Harry believed that he was a child again but looking at himself more closely Harry realized it wasn't true. Though his body was now skin and bone, he was still the same height. Rattled by all these recent events and too weak to flee, Harry had no choice but to stay in the bed and wait for the woman who called herself his mother to arrive. He hoped it was Molly, but he feared it would be Bellatrix or some other death eater. His thoughts were also plagued by thoughts of Sirius and his fate, and why the healer thought he was some boy named Henry. Harry needed answers, but first he needed his stupid voice to work so he could ask the questions.

With nothing better to do, and desperate to distract himself from his thoughts, Harry began to examine his surroundings. The room he was in was very small, but private which came as a surprise. He had never been inside of St. Mungo's before but he always imagined it would somehow be like Hogwarts hospital wing; open with many beds and medi-witches wandering between patients. Instead it was quiet and lonely in this room. The bed was narrow, but comfortable as far as Harry could tell. He was sore all over regardless. The floors and wall were very… drab in his opinion. Stone flooring and walls, mesh and wood crossed over the windows. It made the room seem rather dark and dingy. The wizarding world had always had a medieval feel about its architecture, so it wasn't too surprising. Harry wished the Healer had given him his wand so he could transfigure a candle or something, but could he even use magic after what had happened? Harry sighed as his thoughts travelled back down darker roads. Until he had his wand and some answers he was going to be stuck feeling very uneasy. He wasn't sure how long he would be able to stand it. He didn't have to wait long though, as a hysterical woman burst into his room not moments after he thought it.

"Oh, my baby!" she cried as she dramatically draped herself over Harry's weak form and scooped him up in a crushing hug. Healer Braxton was hot on her heals and eased her away from Harry.

"Gently now, Mrs. Stoik. Henry's body is probably very sore at the moment." He explained as the woman continued to wail. Harry had never seen her before in his life. While her hair was dark and curly, her face held none of the cruel angles of Bellatrix' face, though she could be disguised. She finally allowed herself to be pulled away from him and sat down in the chair beside his bed, tears streaming down her face as she smiled and held his hand between hers.

"Oh my dear child, you have no idea how happy I am I was so so worried about you." She cried. Harry grimaced, he did not know how to respond. He decided it was best to inform the Healer of his mistaken identity.

"M' Harry." He croaked out his voice cracking and hurting his throat. He tried to lift a hand to soothe it, but was unable so he settled for trying to clear his throat instead. The lady looked at him confused, the smile slowly falling from her face. She leaned forward to pet his head and cup his cheek.

"Oh sweetheart, your poor voice. Who is Harry, darling?" she asked. Harry looked desperately over to the healer, beseeching him to understand. He was frowning and his eyebrows were creasing his forehead, Harry hoped to god he was catching on, but it was in vain.

"I don't like the sound of your voice right now either, Mr. Stoik. It is in very poor condition, I am afraid you are going to cause irreparable damage." Said Healer Braxton. He pulled out his wand and aimed it at Harry's throat. He could feel a numbing sensation and tried to call out in alarm, but no sound escaped his mouth. "Please don't panic Mr. Stoik! It is only for a couple of days, I have temporarily paralyzed your vocal cords, so to speak. Your voice will be back to normal soon, I promise, but the potions are going to need time to do their job and that means your voice need to rest. As does the rest of you, but you have been still long enough. So no need to worry, I wont be paralyzing the rest of you." He said with a wink, voice playful and apologetic. This could not be happening to him, this could not be happening! Harry wanted to scream and hit this moron! How could he just take away his voice! He had questions, he needed answers! HIS NAME WASN'T HENRY!

Healer Braxton only chuckled at Harry's glare. "Well I can't say I blame you for being cross, but it is for your own good. I am sure you and your mother have a lot of catching up to do. I will leave it up to her to tell you what has happened these past nine months, if you are feeling up to it Mrs. Stoik?" said Healer Braxton. That took the wind out of Harry's sails and he slumped down further into the bed. Nine months… nearly a year spent in a hospital under the wrong name. Did anyone even know where he was? What had happened to Sirius? Had Voldemort struck again without him there to stop him? Were his friends alright? So many questions, and now he had no way to ask them. Two days… it sounded like eternity.

"Oh, of course. Don't worry, darling. Everything will make sense soon, and I have so many new things to tell you." She said, and raised his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. Harry's heart hurt as he watched her with wide eyes. She seemed to truly love her son. What pain would she endure when she learned he was not Henry and that her son was missing?

 **-(About Mrs. Stoik: Her first name is Anna, and she is simple but sweet. She is also a squib.)-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, I own nothing as always! Enjoy.**

 **-(About Minky: She prides herself on having the floppiest ears amongst the hospital's houselves)-**

Harry was left to contemplate a lot of things during his forced silence. He had many questions about his friends, and school, and all of the other nonsense that usually went on in his life. Mostly he thought about Sirius. Was he okay, had he been saved somehow, like himself? Or was he a soulless husk like Harry feared? He'd seen Sirius' soul leave his body, and he was pretty sure he'd watched his own as well. Yet, here he was alive and mostly well. He just wished there was someone he could ask, unfortunately, he'd have to wait.

Henry's mother, on the other hand, had plenty to say as she droned on at his bedside about a home he'd never been to and family members that weren't his. Harry held her hand through her explanations and nodded at the appropriate times, but he rarely listened to what she was saying. He really needed to think of a way to tell someone they had the wrong guy, but he didn't have a wand. Even if he did have a wand, he didn't think he would have the strength to move it. His whole body felt off, not heavy per se, but very weak. He had been laying in a hospital bed for a while though, it would take a lot of time to gain back what precious little body weight he'd had.

Harry gave Mrs. Stoik's hand an experimental squeeze, which she returned with enthusiasm. She really did have remarkably large hands for a woman. Actually, for a thin lady, almost everything about her was kind of large. Harry secretly wondered if she had giant's blood in her from a few generations back. Soon Mrs. Stoik fell silent, this lasted for a while as she quietly stroked Harry's hand with her thumb and occasionally pet Harry's head. With a sad look in her eyes, she finally cleared her throat to grab his attention.

"Henry, dear. Do you remember much of what happened to you?" she asked. Harry hesitated to answer her, he couldn't really say yes or no since he wasn't really Henry. He decided to shake his head no though, might as well find out how they found him and came to the conclusion that he was Henry, and see if she would bring up Sirius. "I see, I'm kind of glad you don't remember, but still… this is very hard for me to talk about. You must think me selfish for not wanting to be the one to explain things to you, but as your mother, I suppose it's my responsibility. It just… it just really breaks my heart, my love." She said. Tears were already threatening to fall from her eyes and Harry felt like he had been sucker punched in the gut. God, revealing the truth to her was going to suck, but it wasn't his fault the healers hadn't recognized him as Harry Potter, the scar was pretty hard to miss. Harry laboriously crossed his other arm over his body so he could grasp Mrs. Stoik's hand with both of his as she began her tale.

"I'm not sure where to begin, to be honest, nine months ago or 6 years ago? Your father, he used to take you to the back yard for those 'special lessons'. I always knew there was something off about them, but I can't do magic, I didn't know that the spells he had you perform were so… well, I knew they were dark of course, but believe me, Henry, I didn't know they were so damaging!" she almost wailed, her breath became labored as she spoke. Harry had a horrible feeling about those special lessons between father and son. Six years ago Harry would have been 7 years old himself, he didn't even know magic existed back then, let alone cast any dark spells. Could they really be harmful to the caster? Mrs. Stoik seemed to compose herself enough to carry on after a few moments.

"Healer Braxton says your case is a very unique one. When you were little, you had a strong pre-disposition to light magic. So many of the times that you used accidental magic something beautiful would happen. Your father though, or rather your father's family, they have historically all been dark wizards. I'm so sorry Henry, he just couldn't… he just wouldn't accept that you were a light wizard. I had no idea what kind of abuse your father was really putting you through!" she cried. This time she didn't stop. She broke down completely as she cried at Harry's bedside. Harry did his best to comfort the distraught woman, but he had to admit he was pretty relieved when a nurse heard the commotion and came into the room. She was quick to try and soothe Mrs. Stoik and offered to take her for a walk to get a cup of tea. This left Harry alone in his hospital room with nothing but his thoughts. He wondered what kind of dark spells Henry had been forced to cast, but figured he would probably be better off not knowing. Worst of all he didn't learn a thing about how he ended up in the hospital or what had happened to Sirius. He needed to talk to Healer Braxton because he didn't think he would be getting any answers out of Mrs. Stoik. For the meantime, Harry settled down to take a nap. There was nothing he could do at the moment, and maybe if he went back to sleep, he would wake up from this nightmare.

Of course, as Potter luck would have it, that simply didn't happen. When he woke up again it was with cotton mouth and a headache. Healer Braxton was reading what Harry assumed was his medical chart from a piece of parchment. Harry noted that Henry's mother still was still absent from the room. Harry cleared his throat to catch the man's attention.

"Oh, good morning Henry. Did you rest well?" asked the healer. Harry nodded his head, because sure close enough. "Good, good. Are you feeling any discomfort anywhere?" he asked. To this Harry nodded his head a little more enthusiastically and tapped a finger against his temple. Healer Braxton nodded in understanding. "Yes, I'm not surprised. You're about due for another pain reliever. Let's see if we cant get you something to eat as well, hmm?" he said. Harry nodded his head in agreement. "Minky." Called Healer Braxton. A moment latter a soft pop could be heard and Harry saw the floppy ears of a house elf from his bedside. He had to crane his head up to see her face.

"Misters Healers sir called for Minky?" she asked. Braxton nodded his head.

"Yes, would you mind bringing Henry another dose of pain reliever, and perhaps some oatmeal. I expect his stomach to be quite sensitive for a few days at least." He said. Harry frowned at that. He was no stranger to the effects of starvation, but that didn't make it any more fun to deal with. Minky left with another pop and moments later a potion, a bowl of oatmeal, and a glass of pumpkin juice appeared on a tray in Harry's lap.

"Allow me to help you with the potion, the caps can be a bit tight." Said Healer Braxton as he pulled the cork out of the bottle. "There you are lad, drink it all." He said. Harry took the offered potion and downed it as quick as he could. The taste was awful, but the effects were immediate. Not only was his headache gone but a lot of the discomfort he had been feeling in his body had melted away. He quickly chased down the potion with a swig of pumpkin juice. "There you are, now eat up. As soon as your stomach is a little stronger we'll get you started on the proper nutrient potions, we'll get you some proper muscle tone back, yeah?" said the healer. Harry just nodded again and reached for the spoon, he was bloody starving.

However, there were many questions that Harry wanted to ask this man. Frustratingly enough, it was this man's fault that he wasn't able to voice them, so Harry stared him down as he ate and hoped the Healer would take the hint to start talking. "Right then, did your mother talk to you about why you are here? He asked. Harry shrugged in response, but then shook his head no. The lady had tried, but she was to emotional to tell him anything solid. "I see. Well let me introduce myself properly first, and I'll tell you a bit more about your condition. My name is Alfred Braxton, I am a healer that specializes in Core Damage. Do you know what that is?" he asked. Again, Harry indicated the negative. "A wizard's magical core is at the very center of our ability to preform magic. It determines what kind of magic we are predisposed to casting, such as light or dark, and influences the types of magics that we are best at casting be it charms or transfiguration. When that core is damaged, which is rare, it can have grave consequences. I deal in identifying such damage, its cause, and figuring out how best to treat it. Each case is as unique, as each core is unique to the wizard. Are you with me so far." Asked Healer Braxton. Harry nodded his head yes, though he wasn't sure if he understood it completely, in his mind a core was kind of like a wand but wondered if it had more to do with the soul instead.

"Hmm. Among the cases I have been involved in, I must admit that yours is by far the most extreme and baffling of all. You are very lucky to still be alive, all of us are very grateful that you pulled through." Said the Healer. Harry offered him a small smile in return, boy just wait until they found out he was Harry. "Your father had you casting dark spells from a very young age using a wand that wasn't right for you, besides that your core was very strongly aligned with the light. Your father was trying to change the alignment of your core by force. The fact that it was working is what worries me, for he must have had you practicing some very strong, very dark magic indeed…" said the healer. He trailed off as his eyes seemed to assess Harry. "Tell me honestly Henry, do you remember what spells your father had you casting?" he asked. Harry tapped his throat in a request for the healer to return his voice, but the man just sighed and shook his head.

"As tempting as that is, you really do need to let spell I cast on you do its work. You'll have to rest your voice for another day still. I'll ask you about your father later, for now just listen. When your mother brought you into the hospital your core was about as dark as a core can go, which was very alarming for obvious reasons. It was heavily damaged, and for lack of a better explanation, it was collapsing. Any wizard can perform dark magic Henry, a great deal of it in fact, before the damage done to one's core becomes enough to manifest as physical symptoms. If you had been an adult, you likely would have been fine, but because a child's core is so unstable to begin with the strain was just too much." Said Healer Braxton, slowly and calmly. He was trying to gauge Harry's reaction to this news through his facial expression, Harry imagined he must look pretty alarmed because he was.

He had been here for nine months with everyone under the impression that he was Henry Stoik. This healer was telling him that Henry's magical core had been dark, and sick, and collapsing when they brought him into the hospital, but that had to be impossible because Harry had never cast a dark spell in his life! Also, he had just been attacked by dementors, shouldn't this healer had experience with that instead!? What in the world was going on?

"I see I have scared you, but rest assured Henry it isn't all doom and gloom. By some miracle, for a lack of a better word, you survived. Just as your core was collapsing it healed itself. Just like that, and it's as light as a light core could be. I've never in all my years heard of, let alone witnessed, something so amazing. You are a very special boy Henry Stoik, and I am certain that you will be just fine. We have been monitoring you for any changes to your core for the last nine months and nothing has significantly changed. You seem as stable as any other twelve-year-old boy. All that's left to do is get your body back in shape, and when we get you a new wand, we will test your core to make sure nothing else is wrong. Okay? So, don't worry, you are going to be alright. Your mother and I will be with you every step of the way, and you will be back in school before you know it. Now, it's late so try and get some more rest." Explained Healer Braxton, he gave Harry a squeeze on the shoulder and left the room. But Harry wouldn't rest, he didn't think he would be capable. All of the things Healer Braxton had told him, none of them should be possible. Henry's mother couldn't have brought him to the hospital, he had been in the middle of the forest and had never met the woman in his life. Healer Braxton couldn't have witnessed his core turning from dark to light because his core had never been dark! Nothing was making sense and all Harry wanted to do was scream. It was a long, silent night.

 **-(About Oatmeal: I really want some right now, the dino kind. So good.)-**


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